


One, for the Road

by BookofSpells



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deamus, First Kiss, M/M, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofSpells/pseuds/BookofSpells
Summary: Dean hesitated as he stood covered by darkness in the bushy hedges outside of Seamus’ bedroom window. His fist was clenched and raised, only an inch from the glass, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to knock.He shouldn’t be here. It was far too dangerous.And yet, by some magical force stronger than himself, Dean had been drawn here – desperate to see his best mate once more before going on the run; before leaving his entire life behind in order to save it.





	One, for the Road

**_Early Summer 1997 - The outskirts of Belfast, Northern Ireland_ **

Dean hesitated as he stood covered by darkness in the bushy hedges outside of Seamus’ bedroom window. His fist was clenched and raised, only an inch from the glass, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to knock. 

He shouldn’t be here. It was far too dangerous. 

And yet, by some magical force stronger than himself, Dean had been drawn here – desperate to see his best mate once more before going on the run; before leaving his entire life behind in order to save it. 

Inside, he could see Seamus, tucked comfortably underneath his duvet, seemingly engrossed in one of the Muggle comic books he was so fond of. His sandy hair looked messier than Dean had ever seen it, having grown long since they’d last parted ways on Platform 9 ¾ a few months before. Not for the first time, Dean imagined what it might be like to run his hands through it… to feel its softness between his fingers. 

Dean bit his lower lip hard, expelling the thought from his mind. It wasn’t the time for such indulgent fantasies. In fact, he wasn’t sure if there ever would be a time for that sort of thing again. This was war, and he was a fugitive. For now, the only thing he had time for was goodbye.

Swallowing hard over the lump rising in his throat, Dean knocked lightly on the glass, gripping tightly to the wand in his other hand. 

Seamus jumped slightly, eyes wide and searching until they fell on Dean, who grinned back sheepishly. 

Jumping out of bed, Seamus dashed to the window and pulled it up eagerly. “Dean!” he exclaimed. “What are yo–” 

A large strip of spell-o-tape shot from Dean’s wand and covered Seamus’ mouth, cutting him off from what was bound to be a loud and excitable greeting. 

“Shh,” Dean whispered hurriedly before hoisting himself up and falling onto the carpet. Seamus’ brow furrowed with confusion, but he didn’t attempt to remove the tape or find his wand. He simply watched as Dean righted himself and cast several protective and silencing charms around the room. 

Once the window pane had been closed and locked, Dean turned to his friend and almost laughed at the sight of him. His eyes were bright with indignant confusion, and his arms were wrapped tightly across his chest. 

“Sorry,” Dean said fondly as he pulled off the tape. “You’re so loud.” 

“I’m just surprised to see you,” Seamus muttered, pulling Dean in for a tight hug. “You didn’t owl.” 

Dean squeezed his friend back fervently, feeling more at ease than he had in weeks in Seamus’ embrace. They stayed that way for a bit longer than was strictly friendly, and when they did pull apart, it was with obvious reluctance.

Although they hadn’t discussed it, the dynamics of their relationship had begun to change in the final months of their sixth-year. Touches went from casual to deliberate, bed-sharing went from boyhood joking and laughter to quiet talks and comforting contact. Their friendship had evolved into something more akin to lovers than mates, and it hadn’t needed to be said... until now. 

“I had to see you,” Dean admitted somberly, “had to make sure you were okay before…” 

“Before?” Seamus asked, smile falling from his face. “Before what?” 

Dean brought his hand to Seamus’ face, smoothing the worry line between his brows with his Quidditch calloused thumb. “You know I can’t go back. They’re rounding up Muggleborns.” 

“But you aren’t Muggleborn! Your dad might have been a wizard!” Seamus protested, eyes going wide and glassy with a look of trepidation. 

“I can’t prove that. You know I can’t.” Dean sighed and lowered his hand to Seamus’ reddening cheek. Seamus’ shoulders slumped in resignation. He’d always been a stubborn boy - spoilt some might say - and it wasn’t like him to give in so easily. But in that moment they both knew that Dean was right. There was no other choice. 

“Where will you go?” he asked, a tremble in his voice. 

“You wouldn’t be safe if I told you,” Dean replied, his voice deep with emotion. “My family doesn’t even know.” 

Seamus nodded gravely and, to Dean’s relief, didn’t inquire further. He didn’t want to think about the things he’d had to do to ensure the safety of his mum, stepdad, and sibling. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that the war might never be over, that this might be the last time he saw his best mate. 

“I’ll find you once this is all over,” he assured with a small, hollow laugh. “We’ll catch a football match in London.” 

“Aye,” Seamus agreed with a good-natured eye roll. “S’long as I don’t have to paint my face.” 

“Why not? You’d look so dashing,” he teased blithely. The tips Seamus’ ears turned burgundy at the subtle flirtation, and suddenly, Dean found it difficult to swallow over the lump in his throat.

“I… I better go–” 

“Wait!” Seamus exclaimed, tone pleading. “Stay with me, just a little longer. There aren’t any ruddy Death Eaters or Ministry hags hiding in the hedges.” 

“I shouldn't.” 

“Please,” Seamus whispered, moving closer so that their heaving chests were only a hair's breadth apart. 

Their eyes met, dark brown boring into hazel. Dean wasn’t sure who surged forward first, all he knew was that the moment their lips came together, the world around them seemed to pause and fade away. There was no war waging, no responsibility, no expectations or impending doom – nothing but the two of them basking in the warmth of one another. 

It was messy and uncoordinated, driven as much from desperation as desire, he knew. But it was by miles the best kiss Dean had ever had. 

When he untangled himself from the sleeping boy a few hours later – carefully tugging on his trousers to avoid waking him – he knew that this would be the memory that kept him going through every unimaginable thing to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing Deamus. Please let me know if you liked it! <3


End file.
